ncy together. My mind then addressed itself to
the practical question, What was to be done? Was I to turn my head away
while this iniquity was being enacted? was I to go on my way, forgetting
the seeds of that misery whose terrible fruits must one day be a shame
and an open ignominy? or was I to arraign this man, great and exalted as
he was, and say to him, "Is it thus you represent before the eyes of the
foreigner the virtues of that England we boast to be the model of all
morality? Is it thus you illustrate the habits of your order? Do you
dare to profane what, by the fiction of diplomacy, is called the soil of
your country, by a life that you dare not pursue at home? The Parliament
shall hear of it; the 'Times' shall ring with it; that magnificent
institution, the common sense of England, long sick of what is called
secret diplomacy, shall learn at last to what uses are applied the wiles
and snares of this deceitful craft, its extraordinary and its private
missions, its hurried messengers with their bags of corruption--"

I was well "into my work," and was going along slappingly, when a very
trim footman, in a nankeen jacket, said,--

"If you will come this way, sir, his Excellency will see you."

He led me through three or four _salons_ handsomely furnished and
ornamented with pictures, the most conspicuous of which, in each room,
was a life-sized portrait of the same gentleman, though in a different
costume,--now in the Windsor uniform, now as a Guardsman, and, lastly,
in the full dress of the diplomatic order. I had but time to guess that
this must be his Excellency, when the servant announced me and retired.

It is in deep shame that I own that the aspect of the princely
apartments, the silence, the implied awe of the footman's subdued
words as he spoke, had so routed all my intentions about calling his
Excellency to account that I stood in his presence timid and abashed.
It is an ignoble confession wrung out of the very heart of my snobbery,
that no sooner did I find myself before that thin, pale, gray-headed
man, who in a light silk dressing-gown and slippers sat writing away,
than I gave up my brief, and inwardly resigned my place as a counsel for
injured innocence.

He never raised his head as I entered, but continued his occupation
without noticing me, muttering below his breath the words as they fell
from his pen. "Take a seat," said he, curtly, at last. Perceiving now
that he was fully aware of my pres